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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988434">The Age of the Ageless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnamazingTrashKing/pseuds/TheUnamazingTrashKing'>TheUnamazingTrashKing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Romantic Fluff, This 1st chapter is cute but just wait</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:02:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnamazingTrashKing/pseuds/TheUnamazingTrashKing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier keeps worrying that he's getting old, but his boyfriend (Geralt) and girlfriend (Yennefer) keep telling him that he's actually just dumb and to come to bed. It's hard to argue with that logic.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Age of the Ageless</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The First Wrinkle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you’re here for lots of Geralt appreciation u might be surprised. Like, don’t get me wrong, Henry Cavill could (and should but idk about would) rail me and is 100%% good taste, but Joey Batey?? Anya Chalotra????? We stan otters and women. Don’t @me lmao (I gave up on writing actual porn because my brain doesn’t work. Again, don’t @me lmao)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier spread a cream infused with apricots and mint onto his face as he stared into the mirror. He could see the wrinkles forming in his forehead and around his mouth. The cream was meant to help stop those treacherous lines of age. So far, he couldn’t really tell if it was working.</p><p>

“You know,” A voice teased from behind him. Yennefer appeared in the mirror’s reflection as she stepped into the bathroom, “I could make you something that would actually work. Something to clear your skin.” </p><p>

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “First of all, it isn’t actually for clearing skin. Second of all, whatever you cook up would likely clear my skin until it was totally invisible.” He washed the cream from his face as she approached from behind. </p><p>

Her arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. “Are you suggesting you don’t trust my magic, or me?” </p><p>

Jaskier used a cloth to pat dry his wet face and laughed. “Take it as you will.” </p><p>

She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Dumbass.” </p><p>

“Bitch.” </p><p>

“Where’s our boyfriend?” </p><p>

Jaskier hummed softly to himself. “That’s a very good question. I think he mentioned some monster or other. A kikimora, maybe.” </p><p>

She sighed and squeezed his waist a little tighter, swaying gently from left to right. “When he said come with me, I thought he had some grand adventure in mind already.” </p><p>

“Name an adventure more grand than trying to deal with your bullshit every hour of the day.” </p><p>

Before she could answer, the door of the inn opened and Geralt stomped in. As per usual, he didn’t bother to announce himself, though it was hardly necessary. There weren’t many people with the same heavy footfalls and deep sighs that he managed to produce. Yennefer released Jaskier to greet Geralt, while he finished drying off his face. He gave his reflection one last scrutinising look before heading out to join her. </p><p>
Since Yennefer got there first, she got the first kiss. Jaskier got the second. Both were incredibly chaste, as if Geralt had other things on his mind more important than the two of them. A ridiculous concept, but one that still occurred to Jaskier. </p><p> 

“So,” Jaskier demanded, grabbing some paper and ink, “Tell me everything.” </p><p>

“Later,” Geralt grunted. He removed the swords from his back and dumped them on the floor. “Let me rest first.” </p><p>

Yennefer sighed and sat herself on the edge of the bed. “You’ll forget all the fun parts if you don’t tell him quickly.” </p><p>

“Hmm.” Geralt sat beside her and started unlacing his shoes. “Fine. I travelled to where I was told the kikimora would be. It was there. I killed it.” </p><p>

Jaskier held the quill and parchment in his hand and stared at Geralt for a second. “Insightful.” He dumped them on the desk with a sigh without writing a single word. “Shall I run you a bath?” </p><p>

“Hmm.” </p><p>

“I’ll take that as a yes.” </p><p>

Yennefer gave him a sympathetic look. “I really thought there might be some more he’d tell you.” </p><p>

“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” </p><p>

Jaskier ran the bath and it wasn't long before Geralt was sinking into it. He tried not to moan as he entered the warm water, but the noise was still audible and the relaxation on his face was obvious. Yennefer said she had some business to take care of, although she was suspiciously vague about what it was exactly, and left. Jaskier took up a stool beside the tub where he could wash the Witcher’s hair for him. </p><p>

Geralt, as always, practically melted into the scene. It was a rare pleasure to see. The way he would just sink into the water and tilt his head into Jaskier’s touch. He rarely initiated contact, but Geralt had never once pulled away when Jaskier touched him. Admittedly, it had taken some time to get used to being with someone who would almost never touch him without some reason. Slowly, however, he’d become accustomed to the way Geralt asked for physical affection. It was like the man had never been told that he could just ask, so he was so much more subtle about it. Most often, he would simply allow Jaskier and Yennefer to do as they pleased with him. Like a starving man sitting at a buffet, unsure if he was allowed to eat until someone fed him. He’d noticed Yennefer had been similar. Not quite the same, but close. She would make contact, but it was so clearly planned and considered. She wasn’t the sort to <i>just</i> touch someone. It was purposeful. There was some reason when she did it. Jaskier often wondered how the two even managed to fuck at that rate, with Yennefer being so timid to touch and Geralt blatently refusing to do it at all. Then again, with the two of them needing reasons for contact, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think they might be incredibly -- insufferably -- honry all the time, and releasing some of that tension might be viewed as reason enough to make contact. </p><p>

Jaskier rubbed small circles into Geralt’s temples with the pads of his fingers and received a happy sigh in return. He ran his hands through the strands of white hair, careful not to pull any knots. It wasn’t particularly dirty, and he probably didn’t need to wash it at all tonight. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity though. It gave him the chance to press his thumbs against the back of Geralt’s head and drag them down the back of his neck to his shoulders. He let his hands rest there and kissed the Witcher’s temple. “All clean,” He said, letting his arms circle Geralt properly and his eyes close. His fingers dipped shallowly into the warm water. </p><p>

Geralt leaned his head back enough to rest against Jaskier’s shoulder, his wet hair making a damp spot on Jaskier’s shirt. “You just want more details about the fight, don’t you?” </p><p>

He did, although that wasn’t actually the reason he was acting this way. “I didn’t say that.” </p><p>

Geralt sighed, but it shifted into a laugh. “It was only a kikimora. I’m sure you already have songs about those.” </p><p>

“Maybe so,” Jaskier grumbled, “But you can never hear too many stories.” He opened his eyes with a sigh, lifting one of his hands from the water to run over Geralt’s shoulder and arm. “People love hearing your stories. You’re a hero.” </p><p>

“I’m a Witcher.” </p><p>

“You can be both,” Jaskier answered absently. He kissed Geralt’s temple again, then moved down to kiss his neck. </p><p>

Geralt turned, placing one hand under Jaskier’s chin and lifting it up, so the two of them could kiss properly. It was a slow, lazy kiss. His hand slowly fell from Jaskier’s chin to his chest, tracing his neck on the way. Jaskier pulled back with the intention of pulling off his shirt, only for Yennefer to enter the room at that exact moment, distracting him. </p><p>

“Welcome home,” He said with a laugh. </p><p>

She was carrying a paper bag and reached in without saying anything. She walked over so she was directly in front of Jaskier and pulled out what looked like a dead centipede. “I’ll crush this with some red rose petals and Arenaria. It will smooth your skin out completely.” </p><p>
Jaskier considered the very likely possibility that this was a prank. “Thanks, but you really didn’t need to do that.” </p><p>

“What’s wrong with your skin?” Geralt asked. </p><p>

“He’s worried about getting wrinkles,” Yennefer replied. The centipede squirmed in her hand and Jaskier jumped back, a shudder -- much too like a thousand little legs -- running up his back. </p><p>

“What’s wrong with wrinkles?” </p><p>

Jaskier shrugged, “They’re just not something I’m ready to have yet. I think I’m only getting them out of the stress of following you two around all the time. Have you tried to live with yourselves? It’s practically impossible.” </p><p>

Yennefer held the bug out again and it squirmed unhappily. Jaskier held out one hand and stood on the other side of the tub. “You think I’m hard to live with?” She asked. </p><p>

“You’re the worst,” Jaskier confirmed. </p><p>

Yen held it over the bath toward him while Geralt just sighed heavily and rubbed his face. “What makes me hard to live with?” </p><p>

Jaskier opened his mouth to reply and she feigned throwing the centipede at him, cutting off his words. It was Geralt who spoke next, “Stop it, Yen.” </p><p>

“Drop it?” She asked. She let the bug go and it fell into the bath water. Geralt let out another heavy sigh and rescued the bug from drowning. He stood up to drop the bug in the paper bag and got out of the bath. </p><p>

“You’re no fun,” She pouted. She put the bag down. She came around the bath to Jaskier’s side, arms outstretched with the intention of taking his waist. </p><p>

He backed away, holding up one finger and laughed, saying, “No, I don’t trust you. I’ll bet there’s still one up your sleeve or something.” </p><p>

“Maybe,” She teased, rushing forward. She was faster than him, and managed to grab him easily. Her fingers tickled up his sides like the legs of a centipede, making him squirm. </p><p>

He reached down and grabbed her hands, holding them tightly. He linked their fingers and shook his head. “You’re so weird sometimes.” </p><p>

“At least I’m not frightened of bugs.” </p><p>
Jaskier sneered, but he was still smiling. The two of them kissed and Jaskier almost lowered Yennefer’s hands before remembering exactly why he was holding them. He pulled away from her and laughed. “Thank you for the bug, but I’d rather not spread it on my face.” </p><p>

“Are you two done acting like children?” Geralt asked. He had mostly dried off, but his hair was still damp. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, unfortunately. </p><p>

Jaskier couldn’t help grinning. “Maybe. You have to come over here and find out.” Geralt stared at him for a moment and then turned away and went to find clothes. Jaskier held his hands out in surprise and turned back to Yennefer. “Sometimes flirting with that man is impossible. I could stare him dead in the eye and say fuck me, and he would still act like he doesn’t know what I want him to do.” </p><p>

He left Yennefer there and headed up behind Geralt, wrapping his hands around his waist. The Witcher paused and turned his head to look at him with an eyebrow raised. “What are you doing?” He asked. </p><p>

“Well,” Jaskier replied, letting his hands roam over muscle. It was the sort of muscle that, when relaxed, was soft. In Jaskier’s opinion, it was the best type. He rested his chin on Geralt’s shoulder, “I was hoping that maybe that kiss from earlier might go somewhere.” </p><p>

“Hmm.” Jaskier pressed a kiss to Geralt’s shoulder. Yennefer came around the front of Geralt to mirror Jaskier. The two of them pressed kisses all over Geralt’s shoulders and neck. </p><p>

All stuff in between that and waking up the next morning was a blur. A very sexy and fun blur. Jaskier found himself resting on Geralt’s chest, one arm stretched across his stomach and around to Yennefer’s waist. She was turned away from the two of them, but her head was resting on Geralt’s arm. Geralts, on his back, had apparently accepted his position in their relationship as the pillow. It just made the most sense. He had the broadest chest, the thickest arms, and the slowest breathing. Not just in their group, but out of anyone Jaskier had met. It just made him insanely comfortable to rest on. </p><p>

A hand started running through his hair, letting him know that Geralt was also awake. He looked up to see the Witcher staring at the ceiling. His eyes were focused despite the relaxation in his face. Knowing him, he was probably internally running through what supplies they had, if there was anything they needed to pick up before they left town, what they’d need for the next job. All that sort of thing. </p><p>

Jaskier moved his free arm from Yennefer’s waist and up Geralt’s stomach to his chest. The movement caught Geralt’s attention and he turned his head down so they could look at each other. “Morning,” Jaskier greeted with a lazy smile. </p><p>

“Hmm,” Geralt smiled in return. Jaskier shifted so he could sit up a little and kiss him. He didn’t want him to move since it would disturb Yennefer. He’d always been warned about the wrath of women early woken, but Yennefer was a whole other beast. Geralt should have been scarier to wake, given his size and demeanor, but he was more likely to let the foul mood spread through his whole day. It also happened that Geralt in a bad mood and Geralt just being Geralt had very little difference. He might be more quick to resort to violence or scaring people when he could just talk, but otherwise he tended to be fairly reserved. Yennefer, however, was a condensed ball of all the rage she’d ever felt in all her life. </p><p>

“What’ve we got to do today?” He whispered. </p><p>

“Travelling, mostly.” </p><p>

Jaskier sighed and bumped his forehead on Geralt’s shoulder. “That means leaving early.” </p><p>

“Nowish, if possible,” Geralt nodded. </p><p>

Jaskier looked over to Yennefer. He returned his gaze to Geralt and raised his eyebrows. Geralt shook his head. Jaskier nodded toward her. Geralt shook his head. “I did it last time,” Jaskier hissed. </p><p>

Geralt shook his head. “I’m not doing it.” </p><p>

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Sure, you’ll kill a ghoul, but gods forbid you wake your own girlfriend.” </p><p>

Geralt made no indication that his stance on the matter had changed. </p><p>

Jaskier sighed and reached over, hesitating slightly before touching Yennefer’s shoulder. When he did, he was sure not to shake her. He called softly, “Yen, sweetheart? Time to get up.” </p><p>

<i>Bard and Witcher found dead inside an Inn. Only witness, a mage, claims “I didn’t do it, but I bet they absolutely deserved it.”</i> </p><p>

Somehow, those words printed on a notice board flashed behind Jaskier’s eyes just by the look in Yennefer’s eyes. It was also accompanied by an outrageously low reward for catching a murderer. </p><p>

“You don’t have to get out of bed right this second,” Jaskier continued, hoping to settle the beast’s eyes. “Just need you to be awake so you can get ready to go.” </p><p>

“If I don’t need to be out of bed,” She asked, slowly sitting up, “Why did you wake me.” </p><p>

Jaskier jumped out of the bed and pointed at Geralt, “It was his idea.” </p><p>

Geralt shot him a betrayed look before making eye contact with the glare Yennefer was shooting him. Jaskier hid in the bathroom and wasn’t sure exactly what sort of torture Geralt was subjected to. Probably the silent treatment. Or worse, pushing him onto the floor and wrapping herself up in the sheets. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What is Adulthood but Existential crisis's</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier finally returned from the tavern. He was still riding the high of his performance and was practically skipping -- and quite literally singing -- as he made his way to the inn. He opened the door, thrilled to be greeted by his lovers. It was obvious what he had walked in on. Yennefer was still perched on Geralt’s lap, her hands in his hair, his on her hips. Yennefer was up first, pulling him in for a kiss and the words, “Welcome home.” Then Geralt copied her. Jaskier was quick to recognise the signs as hands started pulling at his clothes and hair. One second he was kissing Geralt, and the next Yennefer was pulling him to her.</p><p>

Jaskier hated to object to this sort of treatment but he needed to pull away. “Please, come on,” He laughed, “Let me at least put down my lute.” The hands reluctantly fell from his skin, letting him step back and remove the instrument from his back. He carefully packed it away and leant it against the wall. He had barely managed to make sure it was secure before he had Geralt’s hands on his thighs. “What’s got you two so impatient?” He wondered aloud as the hands dragged up to his waistline and started unbuttoning. </p>
<p>

“Nothing in particular,” Yennefer answered. She appeared before him and started pushing off his jacket. The jacket was discarded with very little care for its safety, much to Jaskier’s protest. He didn’t get to argue about it long as she started to kiss him again. He placed one hand on her waist, the other reaching up behind him to bury in Geralt’s hair. </p>
<p>

While Yennefer’s hands wandered under his shirt, her long nails gently scratching at his skin, Geralt’s hands managed to undo his buttons and dip under his pants. His hands clenched and he let out a gasp that was caught between his lips and Yen’s. It wasn’t long before Jaskier found himself on the bed with the two of them surrounding him. </p>

<p>

When Jaskier got out of bed again, he had Geralt and Yennefer trying to drag him back to bed. “I have to do my skin care routine or my skin will get all dry and gross,” He kept repeating. </p>
<p>

Yennefer managed to grab his wrist. It wasn’t as though he had any clothes to grope for. “Who cares about your skin. Come back to bed.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier weaseled his way out of her grip. “I care.” </p>
<p>

He headed to the sink and mirror that came with the room. He assumed it was usually used for shaving. Either way, he was using it now to spread a new cream all over his face. It was meant to be made with cocoa beans and peach skins. It was <i>meant</i> to keep his skin clean and hydrated so he wouldn’t get wrinkles as easily. Still, he was very aware of the deep wrinkles developing on his forehead and the heavy set lines around his mouth. Geralt always said they made him look like he was happy often whenever he pointed them out. He supposed he wasn’t wrong, it just wasn’t exactly the point. Yen always said something similar. </p>
<p>

<i>“I’m getting wrinkles in my forehead.” </i></p>
<p>
  <i>

“That’s just your brain shrinking. I can make you something for that.” </i>
</p>
<p>

He was almost considering taking her up on that. It couldn’t hurt her to ask nicely just once. </p>
<p>

Instead he would stick to the very normal, human creams and salves. Maybe he could get something sticky that would keep all his skin tight. He needed something for his hair too. He’d brush it out and it seemed like half his head was falling out. He had even spotted grey hair. He hadn’t mentioned that to Geralt or Yennefer. Geralt was already full of white hairs, so there was no sympathy there, and Yen… was a bitch. Loved her to death, but <i>gods</i>, what a bitch. </p>
<p>

Jaskier had to wait an hour for the cream to seep into his pores. This was an hour Yennefer often took advantage of to torment him. Tonight, however, she had fallen asleep with Geralt. Jaskier watched the two of them resting in bed and felt an odd twinge that he couldn’t quite explain. He was very aware of the space between them. </p>
<p>

He wondered if they’d ever felt that exact, strange way. Just sitting in the room while the others slept while he or she couldn’t. He supposed, with how restless Geralt could be when stressed, it was probably something they’d dealt with. It was so hollow. </p>
<p>

The lonely little thoughts started to eat at him. Pretty soon he was thinking about how old they were. They were both older than him. When he’d met Geralt he looked so much younger than him. He hadn’t changed at all, but Jaskier… They looked the same age now. That was fine, technically, but it wasn’t going to last. </p>
<p>

Jaskier got up and moved over to sit on the edge of the bed. Less distance made him feel better. The shifting weight on the bed caused Geralt to stir. </p>
<p>

“Sorry,” Jaskier whispered, brushing the Witcher’s hair back with his fingers, “I didn’t mean to wake you.” </p>
<p>

Geralt’s eyes took a second to focus on Jaskier’s face, then he jumped. He settled immediately with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. It, at that point, occurred to Jaskier how odd he must look with the cream face-mask on. Sadly, Geralt’s jump also woke Yennefer. </p>
<p>

She gave Jaskier a hooded glare. She sat up, her glare never breaking. Jaskier considered that he could run, but it was his fault she was awake this time, so he should take responsibility. She sat in front of him staring darkly for a while. Finally she dragged her finger through his face-mask to draw a dick. </p>
<p>

“Really?” Jaskier asked. </p>
<p>

“Now you’ll only get wrinkles in the shape of a cock. It’s about the size of yours too.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier fake laughed and placed a hand on the side of her head. He pushed her down into the pillows. Geralt sighed with mild annoyance. “Are we keeping you up?” Jaskier asked. </p>
<p>

Yennefer sniffed the excess cream on her finger. “It smells like chocolate and peaches.” </p>
<p>

“It is.” She put her finger in her mouth. “Ew.” </p>
<p>

She shrugged, “It’s actually not that bad.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier and Geralt stared at her. Not that Geralt had much power in judgment in this situation. Jaskier had seen him pick a scorpion up off the ground and just… bite into it. Jaskier sighed, “I want a divorce.” </p>
<p>

“Too bad,” Yennefer sneered and poked his sides, “You love me and you’re stuck with me now.” </p>
<p>

“Romantic,” Geralt replied sarcastically. </p>
<p>

They had gotten married, a few years ago. It was a bit of a strange situation.They found a little religious town that did polyamorous marriages.They figured it was a once in a liftetime oppertunity and had a very quick ceremony. Most places wouldn’t recognise the legitimacy of their marriage. Firstly, they didn’t recognise marriage between two men. Secondly, they didn’t recognise multiple spouses. So, lots of places would agree to recognise one of their marriages. For example, if Jaskier claimed Yennefer was his wife, most people didn’t bat an eye. If Geralt did it separately, that was also fine. But the term “our wife” usually got weird looks.They also couldn’t call each other “husband”. And Yennefer could refer to one of them as her husband, but never both. “Husbands” wasn’t allowed, for some reason. It didn’t really bother them. It was actually sort of fun, telling people they were all married. The conversations were often circular. <br/><i>“You can’t have both.”</i> <br/>“But I do.”<i><br/> “No, you can’t do that.”</i> <br/>“But I did.”<br/> “You have to pick.”<i><br/> “I did. I picked both.”</i> </p>
<p>
Jaskier was glad that if he was going through something so full of nonsense that it was at least with Geralt and Yennefer. </p>
<p>

He grabbed something for Yen to wipe her hand off, then used it to take off the face-mask. It hadn’t been a full hour, but he was tired. Besides, one night wasn’t going to hurt. Not in the scheme of things. He wanted to go to bed with his husband and wife already. </p>

  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Old Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>END 1:</p><p>Jaskier stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t help feeling low looking over his body. It wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive. Call it vanity, but he could admit that he was a good looking guy. It was just that brief interaction the day before. He’d finished singing in the tavern. Yennefer and Geralt had entered. Everything was fine and normal, he got a kiss from Yen before the two of them went back to the inn. Then he’d gone to the bar, like a fool, and the bartender had asked -- well meaning and in full earnest -- if that was his daughter. Perhaps it was the streaks of grey that had made their way into his hair. Maybe the beard was ageing him a little. He’d mentioned it when he got back to the others and they had laughed and made light of it. He wasn’t upset about that -- although he wished he hadn’t heard Yen calling him daddy -- because they didn’t seem to understand. At the moment, people were looking at him and asking if he was Yennefer’s father. Give it a few years of him aging and those two staying young and they’d be asking if he was her grandfather. He’d made a decision years ago. He never thought he’d actually go through with it, but here he was. He strapped his lute on his back as per usual, and took the money he’d earned the night before.</p><p>

Geralt and Yennefer were still in bed, half asleep. Jaskier watched them for a moment, shutting down his heart from entertaining the idea of simply crawling back into bed with them. He burnt the image into his mind. Geralt was on his back, one arm out from where it had been holding Jaskier, the other wrapped around Yennefer. The sheets low around their hips, exposing his chest. Her head resting on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. </p>
<p>

 “Where’re you going?” Geralt muttered. His voice was even lower than usual and slow with sleep. </p>
<p>

Jaskier went over and kissed Geralt softly. “I just have something I’ve got to do.” </p>
<p>

Yennefer moved to sit up. “Alright,” she sighed, “We’ll come with you.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier placed a hand on her face and gently pushed her back down. “You take hours to get your face on.” </p>
<p>

“You’re one to talk.” </p>
<p>

“And if I don’t go now, I’ll talk myself out of it.” </p>
<p>

Geralt hummed to himself. “If you can talk yourself out of it, it can’t be that important.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier stood up straight and laughed to hide the desire to sniff back tears. “It isn’t that it’s unimportant. I just don’t want to do it.” </p>
<p>

Geralt reached out one hand and rested it on Jaskier’s back. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Jaskier shook his head, not sure if he could speak without crying. He ran his fingers through Geralt’s hair. “Are you sure? Your heart is pounding.” That was true, he could feel it in his shaking fingers. </p>
<p>

Finally he managed the words, “You can’t. It’s something I’ve got to do by myself, otherwise there’s no point in doing it.” He could see the concern building on Geralt and Yennefer’s faces and laughed. “Don’t look so concerned, my loves, I’m just being dramatic.” </p>
<p>

“It’s what you’re good at,” Yennfer teased, reaching out to take his hand. </p>
<p>

Jaskier shrugged, “What can I say, I love the thrill of drama.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. “And now, I have to go and indulge in some.” He dropped Yen’s hand and turned out of Gerlt’s, heading for the door.

Yennefer called out, “Come home safe,” just before he left and he faltered. </p>
<p>

He desperately didn’t want to lie to them. Part of him had wanted to slip away while they were on some job or asleep, but he knew he couldn’t leave without at least some goodbye. He tried to put on a teasing tone as he answered, “I’ll miss you until I see you again.” Because he did want to, one day, see them again. Perhaps at some time when he still had an attractive silverfox aesthetic. They would likely be mad at him, but he would like to see them. </p>
<p>

He’d lived with them for so long he wasn’t sure if he could live without them. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to <i>survive</i>. He was an adult, afterall. That part was easy. It was the rest of it. He loved them so much. Impossibly much. Heart-wrenchingly, soul-crushingly, rib-crackingly much. But he had to leave. Before he got too old. Because it would be easier for them to have him leave than to have him die before them. </p>
<p>

In desperate search for some silver lining as he shut the door on the best thing in his life, he thought to himself, <i>At least the world loves a tragic ballad</i>. The tears building in his body were so heavy he thought they might make him faint before he even left the inn. He forced his legs to move, his mind on nothing else, and before he knew it he was on the outskirts of the town. </p>
<p>

The undefined line between the well trodden roads of the town and the slightly less trodden roads of everything else appeared before him. The dry road was empty of anyone but him. The sand picking up in the beating wind, whipping him in the face. It was the last chance to turn around. To go home and say he’d dealt with whatever it was. It hadn’t been that big of a deal. He was home and they could lay in bed a few hours. But his eye caught his reflection in a window and he could see the streak of grey, the deep crows feet by his eyes, the laugh lines. He kept walking. </p>

<p> 

It had been decades since Jaskier had last seen Geralt and Yennefer. He had walked to the coast and started to sing in a tavern regularly. Some people recognised him, most didn’t. As time went on, less and less knew him as Jaskier, Geralt’s barker, and more had come to know him as the old man who sang in the town. His voice grew grizzled with age, his hair all but fallen out, his fingers sore, but he still sang, and people still listened. The evenings he usually spent at the tavern, entertaining the people passing through and the regulars. The days he spent in the town square by the fountain. He was fairly popular with kids, some of whom he taught the workings of the lute, all of them he watched grow up until he was singing in the tavern for them too. </p>
<p>

He’d managed to buy himself a cottage. Nothing overstated, a one bedroom thing. Kitchen was small, but there was plenty of light from the windows. He’d never married, although in the past he’d had plenty of “guests” who were now old friends. All of them settled with someone, plenty of them claimed they wanted to have settled with him. He didn’t want them. Any thoughts of settling brought him back to Geralt and Yennefer, and no one would ever compare in a thousand years to what he had left behind. They made up most of his song’s subjects, which wasn’t anything new. (Although there were plenty of people who seemed keen to insist that the songs had to be, in some way, about them.) But the songs had gotten sadder, more lonesome, and he was starting to wonder if it was time to make good on that last promise. If he should leave in some attempt to see them again. It was hard to think of realistically when his bones ached at the thought of rain. </p>
<p>

While by the fountain he heard a rumour of a town with a monster. It was a while away, but they’d called some Witcher to hunt the thing down. A Wticher, they said, that would have to pass through the town. Everyone was quite buzzed about the issue. Some said Griffin, others insisted on Alghoul, but Jaskier’s heart kept crying that it had to be Geralt. He didn’t care about the monster and no one seemed to be sure about exactly what it was anyway, but there wasn’t any information on the Witcher they’d hired. He wanted to know, <i>needed to know</i>, at least one other thing about the Witcher. It was one of the young girls who finally told him something of interest. </p>
<p>

“They say he’s got a mage who he travels with,” She said simply. The next thing she said was, “Are you okay?” on account of the fact that Jaskier had started crying. </p>
<p>

The night they were set to arrive, Jaskier was performing in the tavern. He’d spent several hours back and forward on if he should even show up. He desperately wanted to see them again. Then again, there was his reflection looking back at him every time it had the chance. Warped with age, he wondered if Yennefer and Geralt would even recognise him. He also wondered if he wanted them to. He had decided to leave it to fate. </p>
<p>

He was starting to relax as the night went on. It was very late in the evening. They would normally be off the road by that time, meaning they likely weren’t coming at all. At least, not tonight. And if they didn’t come that night, then fate had declared it so, and he would stay home the next night. Maybe that was cowardly, but he didn’t really care. His fingers had been shaking so badly he could barely play all night. They were relaxing now, and he was finally playing halfway decently. The townsfolk had probably come to the conclusion that his old fingers were simply sore from the expected snow. It didn’t matter either way. Geralt and Yennefer were not coming, and he was never going to see them again. Tragic, but perhaps for the best. </p>
<p>

The door opened and the breath flew from Jaskier’s lungs. It was like he had been punched in the stomach. Entering, as if in slow motion, was Yennefer followed by Geralt. They looked like not a single day had passed. Yennefer’s black hair framed her made-up face in perfect waves. A high fur collared coat sat stately on her shoulder. Geralt’s white hair was a contrast to his black clothing. Two swords strapped to his back, catching the dim lighting of the candles. They were exactly as Jaskier had remembered them. Perhaps, even, more beautiful. They took a seat at the back of the tavern and had their ale delivered to the table. Jaskier’s legs almost moved without his consent. If he’d not managed to stop himself, he might have very well leapt across the room. The gods could only know what he would have done then if they hadn’t recognised him. </p>
<p>

 His eyes locked to Geralt’s, then Yennefers, and his heart dropped into his shoes. There was no recognition there. They looked him over and had no idea who he could possibly be. He blinked hard to force tears away from spilling and turned back to the other patrons. </p>
<p>

“You’ll have to forgive me,” He chuckled, aware of how raspy his voice was, “I’ve forgotten what I was meant to be singing.” </p>
<p>

“Too beautiful a woman?” Someone called, causing everyone to laugh. </p>
<p>

“Perhaps,” He replied to a chorus of chuckling before picking back up on his song. He sang the rest of the night for Geralt and Yennefer, even if they didn’t know it was for them. He found himself quite glad to see them again, and strangely grateful to fate for leaving him unseen.</p>


  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Old Man (V2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This is an extra chapter because the original version of this ending of this story made me sad so I made it more sad. (Major Character Death but I didn't tag it bc this is a non-canon ending to my non-canon story. That's life buddy)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>ALT END</p><p>The door opened and the breath flew from Jaskier’s lungs. It was like he had been punched in the stomach. Entering, as if in slow motion, was Yennefer followed by Geralt. They looked like not a single day had passed. Yennefer’s black hair framed her made-up face in perfect waves. A high fur collared coat sat stately on her shoulder. Geralt’s white hair was a contrast to his black clothing. Two swords strapped to his back, catching the dim lighting of the candles. They were exactly as Jaskier had remembered them. Perhaps, even, more beautiful. They took a seat at the back of the tavern and had their ale delivered to the table. Jaskier’s legs almost moved without his consent. If he’d not managed to stop himself, he might have very well leapt across the room. The gods could only know what he would have done then if they hadn’t recognised him.</p><p>

 His eyes locked to Geralt’s, then Yennefers, and he felt fear twist his stomach. They recognised him. It was clear as day in their eyes. The moment was broken by a waitress delivering their wine and ale, and Jaskier remembered that they were surrounded by a large group of people. </p>
<p>

“You’ll have to forgive me,” He chuckled, aware of how raspy his voice was, “I’ve forgotten what I was meant to be singing.” </p>
<p>

“Too beautiful a woman?” Someone called, causing everyone to laugh. </p>
<p>

“Perhaps,” He replied to a chorus of chuckling before picking back up on his song. </p>
<p>

As he sang throughout the night, he would glance to the back of the room and see Yennefer and Geralt watching him. Yen seemed impatient. She kept tapping the table and fidgeting. Geralt was more composed, much to the surprise of no one. The tavern slowly emptied until it was finally late enough that it was past time for Jaskier to take himself home. As he left, he was followed by Geralt and Yennefer. There was a brief ruckus of a young man who thought Geralt and Yen wanted some sort of trouble, but Jaskier was quick to put that to bed with a simple explanation that they were very old friends of his. </p>
<p>

The three of them walked in silence at first. All three of them apparently unsure how to address each other. Some things, it seemed, really did not change with time. He looked up and said with a weary smile, “Ah, it’s finally started to snow. They said it would.” </p>
<p>

“Hmm,” Geralt replied. </p>
<p>

Having broken the seal on their silence, Yennefer burst forward. “Why did you leave?” </p>
<p>

Jaskier mulled the question over for a second. He, of course, knew the answer. However, he also knew Yennefer. She wouldn’t accept the simple fact that he hated being the only one of them that aged. The only one who couldn’t keep up. Yet, he couldn’t give her any other answer. “I didn’t want to hold you too back.” </p>
<p>

She rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have held us back.” </p>
<p>

“I can’t even travel like this, my dear,” He answered, reaching out one wrinkled hand to take hers. Her skin was smooth and unmarked. Just as he remembered it. </p>
<p>

Geralt finally spoke, “You could at least have said you weren’t coming home.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier reached out his other hand and Geralt took it. There was a mix between the callouses he remembered and the new scars he didn’t. “Then you would never have let me leave.” </p>
<p>

“No,” Yennefer agreed, “We wouldn’t have. That’s why you should have told us.” </p>
<p>

“We searched,” Geralt continued, “For a few years. We thought someone had hurt you, but everyone who last saw you, saw you alone. We managed to catch your trail and follow it for a while, but everyone said you were alone. No one was doing anything to hurt you, you didn’t really seem to be running. I thought, maybe, you were running from us.” </p>
<p>

“Running?” Jaskier repeated. “Running, no. Walking, I’m afraid. I always hoped one day you two would catch up, and we’d maybe see each other before I was this old.” Yennefer looked like she might cry and he dropped her hand so he could put a hand around her waist instead. “But never mind all that. We’re here now.” </p>
<p>

They walked for a little while in silence. Geralt, at some point, dropped his hand to wrap it around Jaskier’s shoulders instead. There was something about walking with his arms around each of their waists that left him feeling young again. It was a little cut off by the ache in his bones from the cold, but there was still a light in his chest that felt warm and safe. They reached the fountain, which had been turned off, and Jaskier sighed. His feet had started to throb quite badly. He’d been hoping to ignore it until he got home. He’d travelled with the two of them for so long, the idea of needing to break before even getting home seemed somewhat embarrassing. Still, if he kept going, he would fall. That would only serve to worry them. </p>
<p>

“My apologies, my loves, but my feet aren’t what they used to be. I need to take a rest.” They helped him lower himself to sit on the edge of the fountain. It was cold to sit on, but it was better than standing. Snowflakes had started to land in Yennefer’s hair. He was sure they had fallen in Geralt’s as well, but his tired eyes could pick up the white flakes in his white hair. They each took a seat on either side of him. </p>
<p>

“So,” Yennefer asked, “What have you been doing without us?” </p>
<p>

Jaskier hummed at the question. He wondered where he should start. “Well, as you can see, I made it to the coast. It was a very long walk. I got here in the end, though. I’ve been singing in that tavern since I got here. It’s been,” He paused. He wondered exactly how long it had been. He hadn’t kept check. He hadn’t felt the need to pay attention to how much time was passing when he wasn’t with Geralt and Yennefer, “Well, it’s been quite some time. I teach the lute to some of the children from around the town.” He thought about it. There was at least one young girl he’d been teaching since she was five or six. She was well into her twenties now. “I’ve even promised one of them my lute when I pass.” </p>
<p>

Yennefer blinked tightly. “You know,” Her voice was tight with pain, “We could probably find some sort of spell, something so you wouldn’t pass.” <i>Ah, there is was. Offering nicely. </i> Maybe she’d always asked horribly because she wanted him to say no. </p>
<p>

Jaskier thought about the idea of forever. Knowing magic and the way it always seemed to work, he’d live forever and age forever too. He smiled and shook his head, taking Yennefer’s hand. “My love, I could do with the rest by now.” </p>
<p>

She pursed and lips and looked away sharply, still forcing back tears. “Well don’t expect me to get all misty eyed if you do drop.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier laughed. “I should hope not. You look dreadful when your eyeliner is smudged.” </p>
<p>

Yennefer laughed, and tears finally started spilling from her eyes. “I’m so glad to see you,” She chuckled, “If you won’t come with us, then we’ll stay with you. Right Geralt?” </p>
<p>

“Right.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier felt tears sting his eyes. He looked between the two of them, feeling a little bewildered. He thought that maybe they would see him in his age, say something to make it seem like they wanted to still be with him but couldn’t, and leave. He’d assumed they would humour him. Tell him they still loved him as he was, but had to go. That they couldn’t stay. </p>
<p>

He shook his head. “No, no, the two of you will have to go. You’ll need to work.” </p>
<p>

Yennefer shrugged, “There will be work for me in town.” </p>
<p>

“There’s work a few towns by,” Geralt answered, “After that, there will be work that people need done here. If not, I’ll take a break.” He smiled. “Maybe I’ll retire.” </p>
<p>

Jaskier shook his head. “You two must be joking.” </p>
<p>

Yennefer’s hands took his cheeks and turned him to face her. She kissed him slowly, sweetly, pulling away to whisper, “You can’t run away from us anymore. Your old bones won’t let you get too far.” </p>
<p>
Jaskier chuckled despite the tears on his face. “That’s the most creepy and romantic thing you’ve probably ever said to me.” Yennefer kissed him again. </p>
<p>

When the two pulled away from each other, Jaskier’s head felt a little light. He hadn’t really kissed anyone for a few years now, he was worried he’d forgotten how. He turned to Geralt, intending to say something, only to find lips on his again. Geralt’s kiss was, expectantly, shorter. Still, it was sweet and slow. </p>
<p>

They pulled apart, and Jaskier could see the snowfall caught in Geralt’s white eyelashes. “We should probably get going.” </p>
<p>

“Hmm.” </p>
<p>

“Agreed.” </p>
<p>

They all got up but, before they could get too far, Geralt lifted Jaskier up into his arms. Jaskier felt his feet leave the ground and his stomach dropped. It settled after a second, and he found himself settled nicely in the Witcher’s arms. “You don’t have to carry me,” Jaskier said, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks. </p>
<p>

“I want to,” Geralt replied. “Where are we going?” </p>
<p>

Jaskier couldn’t really argue with that. Well, he supposed he could. Though, honestly, he didn’t want to. He had missed Geralt and Yennefer, and being wrapped up warmly in Geralt’s arms -- carried like some young damsel -- was quite nice. </p>
<p>

Jaskier directed the rest of the way home, carried by Geralt and followed by Yennefer. The three talked about the snow, what Jaskier had been doing the past few decades, the fact that he hadn’t been expecting them to come home with him and so he had no food to offer. Just, everything. Until, finally, they reached his doorstep and Geralt lowered him gently to the ground to unlock the key and let them in. </p>
<p>

They sat and drank tea for an hour or so, before Jaskier started yawning uncontrollably. He apologised, again, for his age. The other two were quick to assure him that he should rest. Before he knew it, all three of them were in his bed. He had Yennefer on one side and Geralt on the other. It was like, after all the time they’d spent apart, neither of them dared to leave his side again. </p>
<p>

“We’ve spoken so much about me,” Jaskier muttered sleepily, “I hardly know what you two have been doing since we parted.” </p>
<p>

“Since you left,” Yennefer reminded him, pressing a finger hard to his forehead. </p>
<p>

“The same as ever,” Geralt answered. </p>
<p>

“Vague as always,” Jaskier sighed. “Come, I’ve grown so much and you’re telling me in all these years you’ve never learnt to tell a story?” </p>
<p>

Geralt chuckled at that, but started to tell the story of a griffin he had hunted almost immediately after Jaskier had left. It was still a little sore for detail, but Jaskier could appreciate the effort. Yennefer then told one of her stories, and the two of them told stories back and forward for hours until Jaskier fell asleep. </p>
<p>

Wrapped, safely, warmly between his two lovers while it snowed outside. It was no surprise that the conditions for sleep had been perfect. Was it any surprise, then, that Jaskier fell so peacefully and deeply into sleep that he never woke up?</p>
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